


Dream

by EmmaArthur



Series: Whumptober 2019 [19]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: And ends really fluffy, Angst, But also Malex fluff, Canon Disabled Character, Character Death, Disability, Dreaming, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, It starts out really angsty, Jesse Manes is a War Crime, M/M, Murder, This is weird, Whumptober, but not really, injuries, referenced abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 16:35:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21139802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmaArthur/pseuds/EmmaArthur
Summary: Alex's world ends. He wakes up in a different one. Or was it all a dream?





	Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Whumptober day 22: **Hallucination**.
> 
> I'm skipping a few days, because I'm sick and tired and this one was already started. I'll come back to the prompts I've skipped at some point.
> 
> I don't know where this came from, but it was fun to write. It starts out really angsty and dark, but that doesn't last, so don't let it fool you.
> 
> [death, hospital, injuries, recent amputation, murder, violence, mentions of abuse]

“You're the worst thing that ever happened to me, Alex!” Michael shouts. “You! I need to get away, because otherwise you're just going to break my heart yet again, and I can't take that.”

Alex tries to shoulder the blow, reeling. He doesn't know what he expected, coming here after the funeral. The Wild Pony isn't open yet, but Michael, Liz and Maria are sitting around a table, still in their black formal clothes, and staring at him. Alex can see Maria's hand cover Michael's under the table, and it adds another knife twisting in his heart.

“You were right,” Michael adds when he doesn't answer. “I can't see you without thinking of your father.”

His father, who just killed the man he was starting to think of as his best friend. Alex looks away. The broken face of Sheriff Valenti, in front of her son's grave, is imprinted in his mind's eye. She's lost both her husband and her son at the hands of Alex's father, and she doesn't even know the truth about either of them. Michael has lost his mother, his family, and every hope of finding out where he comes from.

Alex's family has hurt so many people, and that's his legacy. His burden to bear. He can't blame Michael from wanting to get away from him, even if it hurts.

“What do you want me to do?” he asks in a murmur, broken.

“I think it's better that you leave, Alex,” Michael says. “You should never have come back.”

Alex looks to the girls, despite his feeling of betrayal toward Maria, but they just avert their eyes. Neither of them will speak up for him. Neither of them wants him here.

Alex closes his eyes tight. It's like the world is ending. Kyle is dead, Max is inside a pod with little hope to save him, Rosa is somehow back but little more than a ghost, her body and her mind too damaged by ten years in a broken pod, and now Alex has just lost, in one sweep, the love of his life and his two remaining friends.

And his father is out there somewhere, waiting for the chance to take him out. Alex is of half a mind to let him.

“Alright,” he says stiffly. He'll draw his father out and deal with him once and for all, and then he'll pack his things and leave. His contract with the Air Force is up at the end of the week. He can still re-up and get stationed far away from here. “I'll get out of your hair.”

He takes one last look at Michael, at his beautiful, sad face, and turns on his heels.

“Have a good life,” he murmurs as he closes the door of the Wild Pony behind him for the last time.

_There are noises around him, coming from far away. Beeps. Voices. He can't feel anything. His head is made of cotton wool, and he's floating, as if out of his own body._

He doesn't break down until he's in the safety of his cabin. Even there, he doesn't cry, or scream and break things, like a part of him want to. Instead, he lies down on his bed, still in his suit and shoes, and stare at the ceiling until all thoughts disappear. He doesn't sleep.

The pain is distant, almost. Alex knows what this is. He's dissociating so far that he can't feel what's really happening anymore.

It's for the best. He's got two jobs to do: deal with his father, and pack up his things. He won't be able to do that if he's a weeping mess.

When the sun comes down, Alex stands up, perfectly quiet, and starts taking out boxes.

_Things are quieter, now, though the noise is never gone. He wonders if it's only in his head. There's no pain−until the moment he thinks about it. It's dim, but it's there. The pain in his leg, unrelenting and breathtaking, and the pain in his head._

_Alex moans. He tries to open his eyes, but it's impossible, like his eyelids are glued together._

_Things move around him again. Voices. Noise. Too much noise. He can't move. Pain._

He only packs up what he can fit in his car. He doesn't have much that's his in the cabin anyway, he kept Jim Valenti's furniture. How did he decide to live in a place that belonged to a man his father murdered? How did he live with himself?

He doesn't know, anymore. He sees himself in the bathroom mirror, while gathering his toothbrush, and he averts his eyes. He's not scared of seeing his father's eyes looking back at him anymore. He already knows they will.

When he's finished packing, he sits down in the armchair. He doesn't take off his prosthetic. His crutches are already in the car, and he's not going to sleep. He's removed the suit and changed into something more practical, jeans and his leather vest.

He waits until dawn.

_The world is white. Alex doesn't even know if his eyes are actually open or not. He still feels like he's floating beside his body._

_Sometimes the whiteness resolves into colors, pale blues and greens and pinks. The sound is still there, but closer, now, louder−too loud._

_Alex tries to move, but something is preventing him. A hand. A hand holding his, carefully, tightly._

“_Alex?”_

Right on time, the door opens. Alex looks up.

“Let's take this outside, shall we?” he says, standing up. He doesn't show how stiff he is from waiting all night. He doesn't limp, when he walks to the door.

“I wondered if you would come, but then I remembered. You're a man of honor, aren't you? Even if you think I'm beneath you, you'll still give me a fair fight.”

Jesse Manes steps out of the shadow to face him.

“I wish you could see things my way, Alex,” he says. “But you still refuse to.”

“You just killed my best friend,” Alex says. It's easy, to admit that Kyle was his best friend. He has nothing left to prove to his father. He didn't ask him here to trick him, or to try to convince him of his mistakes. He doesn't care about appearing weak.

“He knew too much. It was unfortunate.”

“Right,” Alex mutters. “Are you here to do the same thing to me?”

“I wish I didn't have to,” Jesse says, and for an instant, he sounds like he actually thinks it.

Then he moves, and Alex moves with him. He knocks the gun out of his father hand, only wincing a little when he lands on his bad leg.

_He's outside of his body. The beeping is insistent, like an alarm clock, but it's not an alarm clock. It's a heartbeat. Well, a heartbeat monitor._

_Alex can see it now. It's beeping too fast, and someone is calling his name, increasingly desperate._

_It's Michael. Michael sitting at his bedside, panicking. Holding his hand. Alex can see himself in the bed, pale and drawn under the covers, bandages covering his head and part of his torso. _

_A doctor pushes Michael out of the way and removes the blanket covering him, revealing his heavily bandaged stump. Alex frowns. How−_

_What is he doing here?_

The fight goes on until Alex is panting and limping badly, but Jesse Manes isn't in a much better state. His body is in better shape, but he's older, slower already. Alex has got a few good hits to his ribs, and he's wheezing.

Alex misses it. He misses his father lunging for the backup gun around his ankle, during a second of inattention. He only realizes when he hears the gunshot, almost in his ears, and feels the sudden pain in his chest.

He falls to his knees, pressing a hand to his chest. His breathing is already hitching−the bullet has hit a lung. He has a few minutes, at most. The first gun, which he discarded earlier, is still on the floor, not far from where he ended up. He needs to finish this. Alive, Jesse Manes will remain a threat to Michael and his family.

Feeling his hand close around the gun, Alex does his best to stand up and aim. He only has one chance. He discharges the gun into his father's chest, watching him fall to the floor, dead before he even stops moving.

Alex feels the tears finally fall down his cheeks.

Is this how it ends? he wonders as he tastes dirt.

_Alex's whole body rises with the defibrillator, as he watches from afar. Michael has his face in his hands, horrified. _

_It hurts. Alex can feel the pain in his chest, with every shock. It hurts, until it doesn't. Until he's pulled straight back inside his body, and his world goes dark._

_Is this how it ends?_

“Alex? Alex!”

Alex opens his eyes, but the world refuses to focus around him. For a moment, all he can feel is the pain. It courses through his whole body, so deep that it's impossible to tell where it comes from.

“Alex!”

Finally, it recedes, concentrating into parts of him. His leg is the worse, but his head is close second, and his chest is relentless. Alex wants to scream, but he's sluggish, slow, barely able to move.

The hand covering his disappears, and he makes a sound of distress at losing that little bit of human warmth.

“I'm here,” the voice says, and the hand comes right back. “I'm right here.”

Michael. Alex would know this voice anywhere, even in his current state.

“Alex. You're awake.”

Alex blinks a few times, and nods slowly. “Where?” he murmurs.

“You're in the hospital in Albuquerque,” Michael answers.

Things are getting clearer, slowly. Alex tries to shake the cobwebs out of his head, but it only makes it hurt more.

“How long?”

“It's been three days. How do you feel?”

He missed three whole days? Damn.

“I don't know,” Alex says. “Been better.”

“Do you want me to get a doctor to see if we can increase the morphine?”

“No. I don't want to go back to sleep.”

Michael laughs. “You said that last time, but you were out before you even finished the sentence. At least there's an improvement.”

“Last time?” Alex frowns.

“Yeah, you've been in and out. We've had this conversation, like, five times already. You never remember. Doctor says it's because of the head wound.”

Michael looks worried saying that, Alex notices. “I'm okay,” he says.

“Do you remember what happened?”

Alex thinks about it. His leg is gone, and the pain feels like it's just been amputated, but that was done months ago, wasn't it? And Michael wasn't there. Unless...wait. This isn't Germany. Michael said Albuquerque. They went hiking…

He shakes his head, lost.

“You were in a hiking accident, remember? We went spelunking on a dare, and the rope broke and you fell. And this rock fell on your leg−”

“And my leg is gone,” Alex sighs, looking down at where his lower right leg should be. “I remember.”

It's clicking back into place, slowly.

“I'm so sorry,” Michael nearly sobs. “It was stupid, I shouldn't have agreed to this stupid dare.”

“It's okay. It's not your fault, Michael, okay? It's not anyone's fault.”

“How are you so calm?”

“I don't know,” Alex murmurs. “It's like this isn't...new. Maybe it's the head wound, maybe I'm confused.”

“You want me to get the doctor to check you out again?” Michael asks, already standing up.

“No,” Alex pulls him back down. “It's just...I had this...awful dream. Only it feels so real.”

“Yeah, you were really agitated. The doctor said you were probably hallucinating.”

Alex bites his lip. “It was like...a different life. I don't know, it was so strange.”

“How strange?”

“We weren't together,” Alex says.

“Okay, that's strange,” Michael deadpans. “Everyone says we're attached at the hip.”

“My father was a monster.”

“What's new about that?”

“No, but I mean, he was there. In the dream.”

Michael squeezes his hand. “It's been a while since you've dreamed about him,” he says. “You know he can't hurt you anymore, right?”

Alex blinks, trying to remember. “Right,” he says, a bit lost. It tugs something at the back of his mind, but it's hard to untangle from the...dream.

“And even if he could, he'd have to go through all of us first,” Michael adds.

“Okay,” Alex smiles tiredly, willing to believe in.

“Are you feeling okay? Do you want to go to sleep?”

“No. I want to be with you,” Alex murmurs. It sends a pang to his chest. Michael is here with him, at his bedside. He's not asking him to leave.

He must have drifted off, though, because when he opens his eyes, it's night outside. Michael hasn't moved, still sitting in an uncomfortable looking chair by his bed.

“Hey,” Alex says, letting his eyes get used to the light.

“Alex,” Michael breathes. “How are you feeling?”

“I'm okay. As much as possible,” he adds, because if he's honest, he's hurting and shaky and tired.

“Good. Do you remember what happened?”

“Hiking accident,” Alex recites. “And a really weird dream.”

“That's right.”

“Is everyone else okay?” Alex asks, incapable of shaking the dream completely.

“Yes, of course,” Michael answers. “You're the one who got hurt. Liz, Maria and Isobel went home for the night, but they visited earlier. Max was at work, but he sends his wishes.”

“Max?”

“Yeah, what about him?”

“In the dream, he−” Alex starts. He stops himself. Michael probably doesn't need to know that he dreamed of his brother's death. “What about Kyle?”

“He's on call tonight,” Michael explains. “But he's been on the phone with the doctor to make sure you were treated properly. Everyone's really worried.”

“I'm fine,” Alex says.

“Alex, you're−” Michael hesitates. “We were really worried about the head wound for a while, and you had to be revived, both in surgery and then yesterday. And your leg−”

Alex realizes he'd almost forgotten about his leg. It's not that he can forget, really, but in the dream−it became a part of him. Now it's...fresh again. He's going to have to go through rehab, learn to walk again. He closes his eyes. How is he not more affected? The first time around−no, in the dream, it wasn't real−it was like his world had ended, like he could never be okay again.

And yet he survived it, and learned to live with it.

“It's like...I lost it in the dream, too. And...it's weird, but...I already know I can do it, in a way? Rehab, and all that.”

Michael frowns. “I was afraid you'd be devastated.”

“Maybe I will be, later,” Alex says. “Right now...I don't know. I'm okay with it.”

“Okay,” Michael says, sounding doubtful.

Alex looks away. He looks down at his hand, and notices the thin white gold band around his ring finger. Michael has a matching one. He strains to find the corresponding memory.

“Do you remember?” Michael asks. “The wedding?”

“Yeah. I think so, but...it's kind of hazy.”

“You want me to refresh your memory?”

Alex shrugs, then winces as it sends a sharp pain through his head. “It's not like I can do anything else but listen. So tell me. Tell me our story.”

Michael gives him a bright, teary smile. “It's the best story I have,” he says. “Where to start? Do you remember when your father caught us in the toolshed?”

“I don't think I can forget,” Alex answers, anger turning cold in his chest. It's been years since he thought of that night with such rage, but this dream stirred things up in him.

“Hey, baby, it's over. It's been over for a long time.”

“I know. I just−”

“Emotions are all over the place,” Michael guesses. “I get it. Mine are too.”

Alex nods slowly. Michael sits back, ready to start his story.

“So that night your father broke my hand, and then he dragged you into the house. I wanted to go after you, because I knew that he was gonna hurt you, but I was in so much pain I could barely walk. Jim Valenti was coming to see your father. He found me when I was trying to get back to my car and took me to the hospital.”

“The hospital,” Alex repeats. “Right. You're not an alien, are you?”

“What?”

“I don't know, that dream was...weird.”

“You'll have to tell me about it someday,” Michael says.

“Maybe. Not today, though. I want to hear you talk. And I'm tired.”

“I know baby, it's okay. Just rest. Close your eyes and listen.”

“Hmm,” Alex murmurs, struggling to stay awake.

“I ended in the hospital at the same time as Izzy,” Michael continues. “She'd been in a car accident, it was pretty bad. Izzy was okay, but the girls in the other car weren't.”

“Rosa,” Alex mutters.

“Yes. Rosa Ortecho died in that accident, along with two other girls. Noah was driving, and he'd been drinking, so he ended up in jail. This whole thing really broke Izzy, I was so sad for her. I'm so glad she's found happiness again.”

“With Maria,” Alex says, amused, without opening his eyes.

“Yeah. Who would have believed that, right?”

“Indeed.” Alex tries to reconcile his real memories, of Isobel and Maria's engagement party at the Wild Pony three months ago, with the Isobel from his dreams, cold and traumatized after Noah showed his true face. It's not real. Noah is long gone, probably out of prison but also out of Isobel's life, and she's been with Maria for two years.

“Anyway, I got surgery for my hand, and then Jim Valenti got me to agree to testify against your father. I was so scared. I was a foster kid, a _bi_ foster kid just emancipated, with nothing to my name, going against a respected Airman. I thought I was going to ruin my life and lose my scholarship, but I had to do it for you. I hesitated until I went back to school a few days later and you weren't there. Then I agreed.”

Alex squeezes Michael's left hand, marveling at the barely visible scars. Michael never regained full motion in his hand, not enough to play the guitar beyond the simplest songs, but at least it doesn't pain him.

“They arrested your father and searched the house, and they found you with three broken ribs and so many bruises that they didn't even bother to document all of them. From there, they didn't even need my testimony to charge him, but I still insisted on going up against him in court so you wouldn't do it alone.”

“I almost wouldn't do it period,” Alex murmurs. He blinks away the images of Jesse watching him with a fully-grown Michael and threatening them with his glare. Jesse Manes is still in jail, and he's not getting out for a good long while, especially after it was discovered that he'd been illegally using military money to fund a crazy alien conspiracy operation. They're safe.

“Him going to jail meant you were free to do what you wanted, so you applied to UNM, with a letter from Valenti explaining your circumstances, and they got you through late admission. You even got a scholarship, even if it wasn't a full ride. You insisted that I concentrate fully on my studies and you got yourself a weekend job at the museum and evening gigs in local bars. We were roommates the whole four years. You graduated in computer science and I did in engineering. I decided to go to grad school while you got your first full-time job.”

“IT at the museum,” Alex completes. About as far as it's possible to go from the military, though dream-him was just as good with a computer. The faces of his Airmen brothers are fading from his mind already, the dream slowly going away.

“Yes. I did my PhD in just four years, and we got married three months after my defense. That was just under two years ago. We had a small wedding since you didn't want your brothers there and I only have Max and Izzy, but we still invited all of our friends. Liz came back to New Mexico for the first time for us, but she fell in love with Max and ended up staying. And Isobel and Maria danced together all evening.”

Alex smiles at the memory. It was a sweet night, and one of the best days of his life.

“We didn't go on a real honeymoon, because I was starting a six months post-doc in Paris just a month later, so we both went. You were tired of your job at the museum, so you quit and came to France with me. You started freelancing while we were there, and that's what you've been doing since. Then we came back, and I got a research position at UNM.”

“We still live in Albuquerque,” Alex completes. “And we see your brother and your sister every other weekend. I think I've got it all now, thank you.”

“You're welcome,” Michael smiles.

“This is going to be a pain,” Alex says, waving to his leg. “Our place isn't really accessible.”

“I'll make the modifications you need. You'll go to rehab as an outpatient. I don't have to be at the university all the time, so I can stay home with you and help.”

A lex thinks about that for a moment.

“There will be a lot of rehab,” he says. “It will be painful and frustrating and long.”

“It's gonna be okay,” Michael squeezes his hand.

“I know,” Alex says. “It's almost like I've done it before. But this time you're with me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go. Of course it's longer than I anticipated, when will I learn? But it was fun to write. I like this alternate universe Alex wakes up in. What do you think?


End file.
